


Baltimore, Bitch

by soviet_whale



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Baltimore, Canon Scene, M/M, just a good-ol pov switch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:34:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24928507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soviet_whale/pseuds/soviet_whale
Summary: Baltimore, from Andrew's POV
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 8
Kudos: 189





	Baltimore, Bitch

**Author's Note:**

> Me: I'm never writing from Andrew's POV again!  
> Also me: Here, have some Andrew POV  
> This was super difficult lol and I still don't have it exactly where I want it, but I was sick and tired of having it in my WIP folder and I think this is as good as it's going to get. I followed canon as closely as possible, but this work wasn't beta'd so any continuity errors are mine! 
> 
> PLEASE NOTE: IN LIGHT OF RECENT POLICE BRUTALITY, I MUST WARN THAT ANDREW TREATS COPS/FBI AGENTS IN A WAY THAT WOULD NOT BE TOLERATED IF HE WEREN'T WHITE. I WAS FOLLOWING CANON AND I FULLY UNDERSTAND THE PRIVILEGE THAT WENT INTO THIS WORK. PLEASE CONTINUE TO EDUCATE YOURSELF ON POLICE BRUTALITY AND SYSTEMIC RACISM AND UNDERSTAND THAT THE BEHAVIOR SHOWN IN THIS WORK IS NOT TRULY REFLECTIVE OF HOW POLICE OFFICERS TREAT UNCOOPERATIVE PEOPLE. THANK YOU.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven bruises on his left arm. Andrew was in pain, and everything had gone to shit. They had won, and it was because of Andrew. Neil had promised him  _ anything _ , anything Andrew wanted, and Andrew had blocked the goal like it was his life on the line. He had even found it in himself to yell at the defence line. He tried to convince himself that he wasn’t doing it for Neil, but it was a moot point. Neil had smiled at him after the game and Andrew’s legs turned to jelly. Neil had told Andrew that he was  _ amazing _ and Andrew had to stop himself from smashing his mouth to Neil’s right then and there. Andrew had decided that what he wanted for his efforts was tonight on a roof, any roof they could get to in New York, kisses and cigarettes burning in his mouth. 

And then Andrew remembered why he broke the habit of ever wanting anything. A glass bottle hit Aaron, and Andrew had momentarily forgotten about Neil. A riot had broken out and escalated quickly, and everyone got separated. He was pushed through the crowd until he lost all bearings. There were elbows in his face before he could pull out his knives, and someone shoved him to the ground. 

The riot ended abruptly and the crowd dissipated almost instantly. The edges of Andrew’s thoughts were fuzzy, and his heart was beating wildly. The air felt thick and his limbs felt heavy. He needed to find everyone.  _ Something’s wrong, something’s wrong, something’s wrong. _ He wandered blindly around until he found the bus in the secondary parking lot, where Wymack and roughly two-thirds of the team were. He saw Kevin and Aaron, but he didn’t see Nicky or Neil. His stomach flopped.  _ It’s not my job to protect Neil anymore,  _ Andrew reminded himself. 

Dan, Matt, Allison, and Renee stood off to the side, clutching at each other. They looked worse for wear, but alive and standing, so Andrew only spared them a glance. Wymack was talking to Abby, and Kevin and Aaron were standing to the side, both looking equally anxious. 

“Where’s Nicky?” Aaron asked Andrew at the same time Kevin asked, “Have you seen Neil?” Something in Kevin’s voice made Andrew suspicious (and nervous), but Nicky stumbled up before Andrew could say anything, sporting a split lip and a developing black eye. 

“Oh,  _ there _ you all are,” Nicky said with a weak smile. “I was starting to think I’d never see you again.” He slid to the ground, and Abby was there within seconds. Andrew didn’t give Nicky a second look because he knew Abby would make sure Nicky didn’t die, and everyone else was accounted for except one red-head with an affinity for trouble. There was no sign of Neil, even with the thin crowd. Andrew looked back around at the team. Everyone was covered in bruises, finger marks, and blood. Not a single one of them had made it out unscathed. Almost like they were targeted. Andrew had the distinct feeling that he was missing information, though he didn’t know what about. They all stood against the bus, taking stock of each other’s injuries. Andrew didn’t engage, eyes scanning the area.  _ Something’s wrong, something’s wrong, something’s wrong. _

Minutes ticked by and Neil still didn’t show. The longer he was gone, the more Kevin fidgeted. The more Kevin fidgeted, the tenser Andrew got. He decided he was tired of standing here pretending not to care. 

“I’m going to look for Neil,” he stated, and Wymack only nodded, too preoccupied with the rest of the injured team to care. Something was not sitting right with Andrew. Neil didn’t use his phone a lot, but he had called Andrew before. Andrew pulled his phone out of his pocket but there was nothing. He tried to walk slowly and calmly away from the bus and the other Foxes, but as soon as he was out of sight, he broke into a jog. He never jogs. 

The main parking lot, which had been packed full just ten minutes ago, was eerily deserted. Pieces of glass lay broken on the ground, along with scraps of clothing and various knick knacks that people had lost during the rampage. But still no sign of Neil. Or the security guards that were with the team. Or any security guards, for that matter.  _ Something’s wrong, something’s wrong, something’s wrong. _

Andrew circled the stadium one, two, three, four times. He didn’t find anything or anyone. His skin was starting to feel too tight.  _ I’m just protecting what’s mine. _

A bright orange bag caught Andrew’s eye as he headed for the door. There was a striker’s racket, orange and white, sitting right next to the bag. It wasn’t far from where the riot started. Crouching next to it, Andrew ripped open the duffel, and sure enough, found all Neil’s things. His phone was in the netted pocket of the bag, meaning that Neil had no way of contacting Andrew. Or anyone else. Panic, an emotion that Andrew didn’t think he was capable of feeling anymore, flared to life in his stomach. 

He flipped open the phone, not really sure what he was looking for, but he saw a text with the number zero and a phone call time-stamped from when Neil was in the shower. Andrew didn’t recognize the number or the area code of either. When he tried to call the numbers, an out-of-service message played. 

All of a sudden, Neil’s words came back to him.  _ Thank you. You were amazing. _ It hadn’t been a thank you. It had been a goodbye. Andrew was hit with a certain understanding. Neil had known that was it, he’d known that was his last game, and he’d lied to Andrew. He asked Andrew to let him go because he’d known his time was running out, and he knew Andrew would do it. All Neil had to do was ask. So now Neil is on his own, and he’s no longer Andrew’s problem. And Andrew was furious. Neil  _ lied _ to him. People have lied to Andrew before, but he’s never felt betrayed like this. He’s never been this  _ angry. _ He’s never been this helpless. 

Andrew looked down at the duffel in his hands and shoved everything back in. He shouldered the bag and ran inside the stadium, easily picking the lock to the athlete’s entrance. There weren’t any people or security cameras.  _ Something’s wrong, something’s wrong, something’s wrong. _ He sprinted into the locker room, throwing open stall doors, ripping aside shower curtains, looking for anything. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, bathroom stall doors he pushed open. There was nothing. He ran through the stands, around the concession areas, and through the court before sprinting back outside. The crisp night air hit his lungs like a bat, and Andrew slowed down. 

He was letting his emotions get the better of him. He was panicking. He hadn’t cared about anything strongly enough to panic in years. He stood for a moment, breathing in. He counted one, two, three, four, five streetlights in the parking lot. He tried to remember how he used to calm down, but he never did-things would happen and then they’d be done. Panicking was a strange, new thing to Andrew and fuck Neil for making Andrew freak out. 

_ Neil might have gotten into a fight and been taken to the hospital. He might still be out there, fighting.  _ There were plenty of rational explanations for Neil’s disappearance. But Andrew looked down at the duffel bag and racket that Neil never parted from and thought about his shifty behavior in the locker rooms, and honest-to-goodness dread uncurled in his stomach. And Andrew’s never been rational when it comes to Neil anyway. 

No, Neil knew the shit was going to hit the fan tonight. This had all been a sick game to him, his way of going out with a bang. Andrew was angrier than he’d ever been, his head filled with a thick angry fog. He didn’t like how it felt to be played, to be lied to. Andrew wanted answers. 

He walked back to the bus. His feet slapped the ground, with maybe a little too much force. When Kevin caught sight of Neil’s bag, his face went white. Kevin’s extreme reaction did nothing for Andrew’s nerves. He and Andrew both knew that Neil wouldn’t leave his things. Andrew didn’t say anything to the rest of the Foxes, but his silence must have gotten the point across; there was no Neil to be found. 

“Well, I’ll call the local hospitals, give them a description. Maybe he got knocked unconscious and was thrown in an ambulance,” Wymack said. He walked away from the Foxes to make the call. Everyone was uneasy-Neil was the only person unaccounted for, and everyone knew he’s made of trouble. The upperclassmen and Nicky started discussing their injuries and recovery time. Kevin leaned against the bus, looking petrified, and Aaron was on the phone with Katelyn. Everyone was caught up in themselves, and Andrew wanted to scream at them.  _ Don’t you know he’s missing? He’s gone. _ But he kept his thoughts to himself and his suspicions about Neil private, at least until Wymack was done calling the hospitals. Andrew’s fingers itched for something to punch, something to do. Kevin reached for Neil’s bag but Andrew shoved him away. He didn’t want to let go of it. Andrew’s eyes kept flicking around the parking lot like Neil might walk right back to them, and if he did, Andrew might forgive him for getting lost in the fight. 

Wymack walked back over after about twenty minutes. He just shook his head. 

“I don’t know what to say. I have a bad feeling about all of this.” Wymack glanced at Andrew but didn’t say anything else. Andrew didn’t drop the duffel but fished Neil’s phone out. 

“He left his stuff, and his phone. There’s a text and a call on it from today from numbers I don’t recognize,” Andrew tells the team, trying not to choke on his words. Neil’s not here, and he’s not at the hospitals. Andrew strongly suspects that he’s not coming back, so the team might as well know. It’s a fight to keep his face impassive. Kevin grabbed the phone from Andrew. His eyes got big after clicking a few buttons, and his face slowly became paler and anguished. He let out a breathy, “Oh shit.” 

Andrew looked at Kevin’s face and knew instantly that Kevin knew, that he knew this was coming. Andrew was tired of people keeping secrets from him, and his fury reignited deep in his stomach. He lunged at Kevin’s throat without really knowing what he was doing. He was detached, not himself, almost like he’d been on the medicine. 

He didn’t really register what was going on. He had his fingers around Kevin’s neck, yelling something about ‘truth,’ and there were a lot of hands clawing at him. Eventually, he found himself flat on his back on the asphalt, Renee’s arms pushing him down. It was a testament to his deranged manner, because he never would have let himself be pushed down otherwise. 

“Let go of me,” he growled, but Renee shook her head and pushed her forearms harder into Andrew’s chest. He was so angry he forgot that he hates being touched. He was so disoriented that he forgot he’s stronger than Renee. 

“I’ll let you go if you promise that you won’t maul Kevin,” she said, looking pointedly at Andrew’s armbands. 

“I’ll leave him alone if he tells us the truth,” Andrew spat, but he didn’t really believe himself. He knew she didn’t either, but Renee let him up anyway, and Andrew stood and faced the team. Nicky and Aaron had subconsciously formed a protective wall around Kevin. Andrew wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness. They couldn’t keep Andrew off of him if they tried. Wymack shot a glare at Andrew before regarding Kevin. 

“What’s going on?” He asked, and Andrew didn’t ever think he’d heard Wymack be this gruff with a student. Kevin looked miserable. 

“I don’t-” he starts, but Andrew pulled his knives out pointedly. He pushed through his teammates and got at Kevin’s throat again. No one tried to stop him. He’d spent the last year and half promising to protect Kevin, but Kevin would die at Andrew’s hands if he didn’t start talking. 

“Don’t lie to me,” he demanded, and Kevin’s eyes got big again. It seemed as though he wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of Andrew’s wrath. 

“Look, I’ll tell you, but not out here,” Kevin said, gesturing to the parking lot. Wymack nodded before Andrew had a chance to say anything, and they piled onto the bus. With the doors locked and the team shoved into two seats, Kevin started to talk. 

“He and I...know each other. Knew each other, I mean. I didn’t know him as ‘Neil Josten’ because that’s not his real name. He’s Nathaniel Wesninski. His dad is the Butcher. I swear I don’t know much else. He and his mom went on the run about eight years ago, and I hadn’t heard much of them since. I assumed they both died.” Kevin ripped off the bandaid without much embellishment. The bus stayed silent, and Andrew felt like he might choke Kevin again for lying and letting Neil lie.  _ Not an orphan after all. _ Andrew didn’t know what to do with himself. He was spitting mad at Kevin, but was too confused and angry to do anything about it. After one, two, three, four, five, six, seven beats of silence, Kevin speaks again. 

“The Butcher had been in jail, or so I thought. I don’t know much about him, but I know he’s one of the deadliest people in the United States. He works for the Moriyamas.” Andrew wanted to swear, wanted to punch, wanted to make himself (and Kevin) bleed. How could Andrew promise to protect two people that were involved in the yakuza? How could Kevin keep that from him? How could Neil be so, unbelievably stupid? How could  _ Andrew _ be so, unbelievably stupid? Why did Andrew trust Neil to tell the truth?  _ Why does it hurt that he didn’t? _

“I didn’t know, when we recruited him. I didn’t know until he came back from Evermore with his hair dyed back and his contacts gone. I’m willing to bet that’s how his father found him, too. Neil’s the spitting image of him. Neil didn’t know about the Moriyamas until the Christmas banquet. Riko really threw him curveball.” Kevin adds quietly. Andrew’s rage didn’t dissipate. It flared up even higher. 

“Wait, so you’re telling me that you were fooled by drugstore makeup?” Allison asks, enraged, voicing the exact thoughts in Andrew’s head. “You could have been protecting this boy from the start? Your head’s so far up your Exy ass that you put this boy on live TV without realizing that you were advertising a member of the yakuza? You’re so stupid, you’re so, unbelievably stupid,” Allison remarked to Kevin. Andrew was almost grateful for her. 

“So, how do we get him back?” Dan asked, ever the optimist. Kevin looked down at his feet.  _ At least he has the good sense to look sorry. _ Andrew had never wanted to hurt him more in his life. He could finish what Riko started with the wrist and make sure Kevin never plays Exy again. 

“I don’t think Neil’s coming back. He pissed off a lot of important people...his dad’s been looking for him for a long time.” Kevin said, and another uncomfortable silence filled the bus. Andrew’s chest hurt, and he hated himself for it. He resented himself for hoping Neil isn’t in any pain. 

“Well, we’re not going to do any good here. Let’s go back to the hotel and I’ll call in a missing person report when we get there,” Wymack suggested, and everyone grumbled assent. They should have been celebrating then, but the bus was deathly quiet. Nicky’s crying was the only noise that cut through the tension. Andrew had felt unfairly spiteful of Nicky’s tears.  _ He has no right. _ But then, Andrew didn’t really have any right, either. He told Neil he hated him, that they were nothing. He let Neil go, revoked his protection. He shouldn’t have cared at all, but he was so  _ angry _ that Neil lied. He was even angrier that he believed him. He was so mad that Neil didn’t even give a proper goodbye, that he played the martyr once again. God, he was so fucking  _ livid _ , and angry at himself for being angry. He shouldn’t have let himself care enough to be this angry. His hands shook, and the ride passed in a flurry of racing thoughts and pounding heartbeats. No one sat by him or tried to talk to him, and Andrew kept his hands buried in Neil’s duffel bag. It could have very possibly been the last of Neil that he’ll ever get. 

When they got to the hotel, Wymack slapped a key into Andrew’s hands and motioned for Nicky to follow him. Andrew didn’t even care that he was being separated from Kevin for the night. If he’d been murdered, at least Andrew wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore. 

When they got the door closed, Nicky shot Andrew a worried glance. 

“Andrew, we’re all worried about him. We all miss him. Hell, I think I love the kid. But if you kill Kevin, or anyone else, you’re only going to make this process a hundred times harder.” Nicky set his bag on his bed and turned to Andrew. “Are you alright?” he asked, cautiously, softly. 

Andrew didn’t think he should dignify that question with a response, but he replies simply, “I don’t like being lied to.” 

**\---------------------------**

Andrew hadn’t felt better in the morning. Instead of sleeping, he’d spent the majority of the previous night wallowing in self pity. He clutched the duffel bag in his hands while he laid in bed, not able to let it go. It smelled like Neil. Andrew didn’t let Nicky see and he didn’t admit to himself what it might mean that he hadn’t been willing to put the duffel bag away. 

At one point, hours after Nicky’s breathing had evened out, Andrew pulled Neil’s phone out. It was dangerously low on battery, and still in mint condition from never being used. He pulled it out and looked at his own name right underneath the unknown number in the call log. Neil’s two separate lives, meeting in his cell phone. He’d had to snap the phone shut in order to quell the...despair? rising in his chest. 

Andrew hadn’t wanted anything in so long. He hadn’t hoped for anything in so long. He hadn’t felt this way in so long. And as soon as he did, as soon as he allowed himself to want, to hope, to feel, the higher powers that may be stripped it from him. Neil was wrong after all. It’s not the people that are cruel, it’s the world.  _ Oh sweet irony. _

In the morning, he forced himself into the shower and into clean clothes, but his head was somewhere else. He should not have been that upset.  _ Neil is nothing, _ Andrew tried to remind himself, but to no avail. All he could think about was how much he wanted Neil to come back. Andrew would have burned down the world if it meant Neil got to play Exy one more time. He hated the desperation, the willingness to do anything for Neil, but he was powerless to stop it. Andrew didn’t believe in regret, but he shouldn’t have kissed Neil the first time, or all the times after that.  _ I’m so fucked. _

The team met for breakfast in the hotel lounge. The biscuits and gravy slid tastelessly down Andrew’s throat. No one tried to talk to him, but Renee kept sending him gentle smiles. If anything, Renee’s obvious pity made Andrew more irritated, but he was too distracted to say anything to her. He didn’t let go of Neil’s duffel. Kevin looked disdainfully at where Andrew’s knuckles were white against the strap, but he didn't say anything. Andrew might have slit his throat if he had. 

When they finished up, Wymack sat them all down. Kevin wouldn’t meet Andrew’s gaze, and he thinks it was for the best. Andrew had been quietly simmering with rage since last night, and if Kevin had said anything to him, he might have been on the receiving end of the bulk of Andrew’s inevitable tyrade. 

“I’ve got some news,” Wymack said, instantly getting everyone’s attention. “I got a call from the FBI around 6:00 this morning. They’ve got Neil, in Baltimore. He’s alive. They didn’t tell me much else, but they want us to go down there for questioning.” Andrew should have been relieved, but really he was just as confused and angry as before. He was with the FBI, doing fuck-knows-what, and he still wasn’t with them. But at least he’s alive. That motherfucker is still kicking. The other Foxes started loudly asking questions, but Andrew sat back. He’s put off by the warmth he feels...he hated that he was relieved. But he was, and Neil’s alive. Andrew counted one, two, three, four, five hanging chandeliers in the hotel lounge. 

And then all of the sudden, Andrew was mad again. He didn’t know who he was mad at. He was probably mad at Neil, he was definitely pissed at Kevin. He would have liked to get his hands on the Butcher and rip him to shreds. 

The rest of the morning passed at a snail’s pace, and Andrew didn’t remember any of it despite his eidetic memory. They ate breakfast and piled onto the bus to head toward Baltimore. Andrew hadn’t smoked a cigarette in 24 hours. He was testy. He hadn’t said a word since last night. Underneath all the anger, though, a thrum of anticipation ran through Andrew. He’ll see Neil again, touch him again. It hadn’t even been twelve hours since the riot last night, but it felt like five years since Andrew last saw Neil. Andrew couldn’t count the days it’s been since he hadn’t been on a roof with Neil all night. 

Andrew tried to nap in the back of the bus, but he was too restless. He desperately wanted answers. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to forgive Neil completely. He wanted to see him so badly, but part of him wished Neil had died in Baltimore. Neil put the whole team in danger, especially Kevin, and he lied when Andrew asked him for the truth. What’s more, Neil had made Andrew more vulnerable than he’d ever been. Seeing him might have made Andrew snap.  _ It’s so much more than nothing. _

The sun was high in the sky when they finally,  _ finally _ got to the cheap motel the FBI had requested they meet at. Andrew shoved his way off the bus, but he hung back for a little bit as Wymack met the officers. There were one, two, three agents standing in the parking lot, and a few hotel guests that seemed too conveniently placed. There were one, two, three men smoking on the sidewalk, one, two, three, four women tanning by the pool that looked like it hadn’t been opened in years, and one particularly buff woman ordering a drink from the vending machine. Andrew hedged his bets on every single one of them being officers. Andrew’s never trusted policemen, and he didn’t like the idea of cooperating with them, even for Neil’s sake. 

One baby-faced officer met his eye and Andrew slipped a knife out in an overtly conspicuous manner. The officer sneered mockingly at him.

Wymack shook hands with a few men and answered all the questions about privacy issues, age of consent, and willingness to cooperate. The team just stood around, everyone looking dead on their feet. Andrew was so tired of feeling helpless, of having no answers. He wanted to see Neil. 

“Thank you for agreeing to meet us here,” an older officer began while regarding the team. “We would have come to the hotel you were already staying at, but we didn’t the press to catch wind too easily. At least this way they’ll have to sniff out a second location. Let’s head into here. You’re a small enough group that we won’t have to split-” Andrew cut him off with a knife pointed in his direction. 

“Where is he?” Andrew asked pointedly, keeping a coolly malicious look on his face. Nicky huffed and Matt whispered fiercely for Andrew to stop making things worse, but he was sick of protocol and getting more impatient by the second. They would talk after they saw Neil. 

“Put that thing away.” The officer barely even flinched, and it made Andrew want to hurt him even more. “Your knife will do nothing against our guns and does not intimidate me. Now, this will go a lot smoother if you all just cooperate.” The officer stopped regarding Andrew and turned to the team. 

Andrew counted one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine uniformed officers in the immediate vicinity of him. Three in the parking lot, a couple in the cars, four in the hotel room they were being herded towards. He found himself not giving a fuck. He doesn’t like them, but he’s never been intimidated by cops. He got his knife up to the old agent’s throat in record time. Then there were guns pointed at him-one, two, three guns aimed at his head, and two officers were pulling him away. There was a loud rushing in his ears, and adrenaline was pumping in his veins. At that point, he was acting off pure instinct and the desire to get some fucking answers. Distantly, he heard Dan yelling at the officers and Kevin yelling at him, but he didn’t register what anyone was saying. 

Strong hands wrestled Andrew onto the ground. The baby-faced officer from earlier was in his face. 

“You can’t fight us, midget.” He spat on the ground next to Andrew’s head, before yanking him up and placing him roughly on his feet. 

The officers roughly herded them into a dingy, cramped motel room. The baby-faced officer didn’t let go of Andrew’s arm until they were in the room. 

“Keep your fucking fingers off me,” Allison said to someone, and Nicky was loudly sobbing somewhere behind Andrew. Everyone else stayed tersely silent. 

When they got into the room, Allison and Renee moved to sit on the far bed. Aaron brushed past Andrew as he went to sit near them, and Andrew noticed that he looked upset instead of inconvenienced. _Interesting._ _Even Aaron misses our junkie._

Matt and Dan were hanging off of each other. They hadn’t let go of each other since Neil disappeared. Matt was being fretful, and Andrew didn’t appreciate it. Neil’s  _ his _ problem, part of  _ his _ group, not Matt’s.  _ But that’s the whole fucking problem isn’t it? Neil is part of the whole team, he doesn’t belong to anybody, he’s not mine to worry about.  _

Kevin and Nicky took up guard near the window, and Andrew went to stand by them. He wanted to have an easy way out, and he also wanted to be close enough to Kevin to hurt him, should Kevin need some... _ persuasion _ to talk. 

“Look, folks, we need you to know that Nathaniel’s not who he says he is.” One officer began after everyone was seated. Andrew cut him off. He didn’t want to deal with that bullshit. 

“Yeah, we know, he’s a liar, blah blah blah. We get it, Pig. And rest assured, we will take care of it. Give him back,” Andrew demanded. The officer, who’s name tag reads Kurt, scowls at him. 

“Cut the attitude. He’s not here. You’ll be able to see him later, after you answer a few questions about what you know about him. Now sit down.” A threat jumped to Andrew’s lips, but Allison beat him to it. 

“No,  _ you _ cut the attitude. We’re not talking until he gets here. Right, everyone?” Allison turned a scathing look on the team, and every nodded. “Is he alright?” she demanded. Kurt rolled his eyes again. Andrew flipped him off. 

“People, he lied to you. Put you all in a lot of danger. He’s dangerous.” The Foxes all erupted in arguments, and Nicky lost it near the window. Again. 

“He’s not dangerous-”

“He’s scared-” 

“We want to see him-” 

Andrew’s self-restraint snapped. He had his knives out and before he could think about the consequences of his actions, he threw one across the room. It landed with a satisfying  _ thunk _ in the wall, and all of the officers immediately turned on Andrew. The Foxes sat quietly. 

“Where. Is. Neil,” he said. It was an order, not a question. Kurt pulled a pair of cuffs out of his pocket. 

“You’re being problematic,” he said to Andrew, and before Andrew could move, he was being cuffed to Wymack. He pushed and shoved, but Kurt was strong and demanding. 

“Now, coach,” a different officer said, “we suggest you move your bus before the press gets wind of the Foxes in Baltimore. We want to keep this on the down-low. Talk some sense into him while you’re out.” He gestured toward Andrew and opened the door. Wymack shot a glance at Andrew and tugged him along. Andrew felt a little bit remorseful despite himself; Coach didn’t ask for any of this either. 

The sunlight felt much too harsh after being in the dark room, and Andrew’s skin felt itchy. He hadn’t panicked this intensely or for this long since moving in with Nicky. He didn’t know how to calm down. He tried to focus on the cold metal of the handcuffs. He counted one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine squad cars in the parking lot. But none of them had Neil. 

Andrew must have been in a lot less control of his visible emotions, because Wymack kept shooting troubled looks his way. Coach didn’t say anything, though, and just tugged Andrew along, through the parking lot. 

When they got to the bus, Andrew shimmied in before Wymack, his arm at an odd angle. Wymack grunted a lot and Andrew ended up on the ground by the driver’s seat with his cuffed hand near the steering wheel. He really didn’t want to be there. Andrew wanted to be in that motel room. He wanted to see Neil. If he were a better man, he’d want to tell Neil that he’s not nothing. He would tell Neil that in fact, he might be everything. He’s not the fucking answer but he’s the missing variable that makes solving the equation ten times easier. 

Wymack started the bus and some horrible 80s pop punk music played through the radio. It put Andrew on edge even more. Just to be contrary, he shook his hand so that Wymack couldn’t drive with his cuffed arm. It was petty and stupid, and Andrew wasn’t really mad at Wymack, but he felt helpless and small and angry and he wanted to do something. Wymack only scowled at him. 

“Cut it out,” Wymack said with a grimace. “If you behave yourself I’ll make sure some top shelf whiskey makes its way into your suite when this shitstorm is over.” It’s not really what Andrew needed right then and Wymack’s never been the comforting type, but it was enough to make Andrew stop being a shit.  _ Wymack’s worried about Neil, too. _

“Andrew, you have to calm the fuck down. We’re not leaving without Neil. The whole team wants him back. Stop threatening government officials.” Wymack’s voice filtered through Andrew’s panic. “The team can’t suffer two losses right now, Andrew,” He added, quietly. It’s like a sucker punch to Andrew’s stomach. They might lose Neil. He’s here, but he’s not theirs yet. 

Wymack drove the bus around to a side lot that couldn’t be seen from the road. Getting out of the bus was awkward, but they managed. Wymack, thankfully, didn’t try to talk to Andrew again. Andrew’s thoughts were racing, but he couldn’t grasp any of them for long enough to dwell on. His mind was functionally blank, and yet as full as it’s ever been.  _ Goddamn, but I should never have gotten involved with him. Trouble with a capital ‘T.’ _

As soon as they got their feet on the asphalt, Andrew broke into a run. He pulled Wymack with him, and he heard the coach grumbling, but he just couldn’t be out there while everyone else was taking up his time with Neil. And there were one, two, three more squad cars in the main parking lot, so Andrew knew he showed up while he and Coach were out. Andrew (and poor Wymack) made it across the parking in what had to be a record time, but the motel room door was locked. One officer standing in the hallway just laughed mockingly at Andrew when he shook the handle and it didn't open, so Andrew flipped him off and rammed his shoulder into the door. It only took one rough shove for the wood to splinter and break enough for Andrew to pull himself and Wymack through. 

And, then, Neil. 

He’s there, and he’s looking at Andrew. 

An officer jumped to apprehend Andrew, so he didn’t have time to get a good look at Neil. Wymack shouldered the officer off, but another started reaching for his gun. Andrew really only saw him out of the corner of his eye, because he was fighting to look at Neil. 

And Neil, the goddamn idiot fucker that he is, grabbed at the officer reaching for his gun. He then abruptly bent over, and Andrew wanted to put his arm out and stop him from falling. If he can’t stop himself from falling, he might as well stop Neil. 

“Don’t.” Andrew heard Neil choke out, and he sounded almost as terrible as he looked. And then Andrew took his opening and walked to him, and the officers don’t stop him but if they would have tried Andrew would have committed murder. He put his hand on Neil’s neck but he had no idea what else to do; he just wanted Neil to know that Andrew was there. He, in turn, needed some physical confirmation that Neil was alive, and there. 

Neil was bent over, but when he tried to stand up Andrew pushed at his shoulder and made him go to his knees. This was not how Andrew imagined Neil on his knees in front of Andrew for the first time, and the irony wasn’t lost on him. 

Neil didn’t turn his beautiful, blue eyes on Andrew, but rather stared at his bandaged hands in his lap. Andrew took a moment to look at all the bandages on Neil’s face, and arms, and hands.  _ Fuck. _

“Leave it,” Wymack demanded from somewhere to the side of Andrew, but Andrew decided Wymack was talking to someone else. 

Finally, after seconds that went by like hours, Neil looked up at Andrew. Neil looked so wrecked, so abused, and so unbelievably hopeful.  _ Goddamn. He’s been dragged within an inch of his life and he’s still the most beautiful motherfucker on this planet. _ Andrew fought an inner battle to keep his emotions off his face. Never had it been that hard for Andrew to be indifferent. 

He grabbed Neil’s chin, mostly because he couldn’t keep his hands off Neil any longer and because he wanted Neil to look at him, to know that Andrew will not leave him. Andrew  _ needed _ Neil to know that he didn’t give up on him. That he was there and he kind of hated Neil but he also kind of felt the opposite of hate towards Neil, whatever that may be. 

There were so many bandages. All over his face, near his eyes, covering his hands, up his arms. His hair was a mess, at least what Andrew could see from under the hood. But his eyes were so, so blue. And they began taking stock of Andrew’s injuries. 

“They could have blinded you,” Neil said. Andrew tried not to grab his face and haul him closer. “All that time fighting and you never learned how to duck?” Andrew didn’t let it show on his face, he absolutely didn’t, but he was so relieved. Neil was okay. Well. As okay as he could have possibly been just then. 

Andrew tugged at the god-awful hood covering Neil’s head and touched the bandages lightly. He didn’t really want to hurt Neil. (Although maybe he did. Neil lied to him.) He pulled a few off on Neil’s right cheek, seeing the stitches and the scars that were obviously left by a knife. One, two, three slashes marred the skin around Neil’s temple. One, two, three, four, five bruises purpled the skin of Neil’s forehead and cheek. When Andrew pulled the bandage off Neil’s left cheek, he stopped. It was then that he decided that he didn't want to hurt Neil. He’d been hurt enough already. 

Andrew kept his back ramrod straight, and his eyes didn't leave the huge, excruciating-looking burn mark on Neil’s face. He set the bandage on the floor. 

“Christ, Neil,” Wymack said, but Neil didn’t move his gaze away from Andrew. Andrew, for once, really agreed with Wymack’s sentiment. Neil looked like shit. Over Neil’s shoulder, Andrew saw Matt move to get up, but Wymack intervened before Andrew had the chance to say anything. 

“Don’t.” 

“One at a time,” an officer reminded them. He must have brought Neil, because Andrew didn’t recognize him from before. 

Andrew was shocked to find himself glad that they didn’t let Matt get up, because he really didn’t want to let Neil go yet. It was unbelievably selfish and stupid, but Andrew just wanted Neil to look at him. Andrew had spent the last twelve hours berating himself for wanting something, but there he goes again. He wanted Neil. It was the least that the universe could do for him. 

He put two fingers under Neil’s chin and turned his head all around. The scars were horrible. Andrew’s had his own fair share of bumps and bruises, but Neil looked like a walking corpse. It’s a wonder that he still had any blood in his body. 

Neil kept his eyes away from Andrew’s face, and it was probably a good thing. Andrew’s rage had quietly flared back to life in his stomach. Neil had played the fucking martyr again, just like he always does. He put himself, and the whole team, in danger. Andrew was glad that he’s safe but he wasn’t quite ready to forgive Neil. God, he hated the stupid fucking conflicting emotions in his chest. How could he be so relieved, but so angry? Instead of articulating everything, he clenched a fist in Neil’s hoodie. It was the closest he could come to touching anything except for Neil’s face. 

“I’m sorry,” Neil had the gall to say. As if that could make anything better. As if apologizing could take the last twelve hours away. As if those two words could undo the constantly growing dread Andrew had felt for all of the last night. As if Neil could apologize and make Andrew stop feeling the things he feels for Neil. Andrew’s fist went back involuntarily. He knew he shouldn’t (wouldn’t), but he really wanted to knock Neil’s head off his shoulders. His arm shook with the effort it took not to. 

Instead of saying anything, Neil just sat there. He just sat there and looked at Andrew with big, beautiful blue eyes. That motherfucker is going to be the death of Andrew, and Andrew doesn’t even care. He knows he’s self-destructive. He might as well enjoy himself. 

“Say it again and I will kill you,” Andrew said, and he meant it. He meant it for then, and also for any time in the future. But, if Neil ever gets himself in a situation where he has to apologize to Andrew, he’ll already be dead anyway. Neil’s shoulders loosened a little bit, Andrew noticed, and he realized it was the first thing he said since he got in the room. He wanted to roll his eyes, because why should Neil be worried about him? He wasn’t the one that spent the last night with the mafia.  _ We’re going to be ok. _

“This is the last time I’m going to say it to you,” the officer behind Wymack started. Andrew didn’t turn his head to look at the officer, but he was pretty sure it was Kurt. “If you can’t stow that attitude and behave-”

“You’ll what, asshole?” Neil snapped back. _Fucking hell, he’s hot._ _And he’s the same Neil._

“The same goes for you, Nathaniel,” a different officer, the one that brought Neil, said. “That’s your second strike. A third misstep and this is over. Remember you are only here because we are allowing it.” It was an empty threat, Andrew knew, but he was so angry already and the FBI was getting on his last nerve. He started to get up to put the agents in their place, but Neil (with a great amount of effort) crowded into Andrew’s space and put his hands around his face. He didn’t touch Andrew. Andrew hadn’t given him permission to. 

Andrew hesitated for a second, but ultimately decided to trust Neil. A horrible decision, really, but Andrew had stopped being rational when it came to Neil a long time ago. Neil flicked his eyes back to Andrew in an expression that very clearly conveyed gratitude before leveling another blood-curdling stare at the officer. 

“Don’t lie to a liar. We both know I’m here because you have nothing without me,” Neil said, and Andrew knew that he was talking to the FBI agent but his words could very well have been directed toward Andrew.  _ You have nothing without me. _ It’s not exactly the truth, but the sentiment is there. 

“A pile of dead bodies can’t close cases or play the money trail with you,” Neil continued. Andrew almost wanted to laugh. They may have cut him up, but Neil still has his tongue. “I told you what those answers would cost and you agreed to pay it. So take this handcuff off of Andrew, get your man out of our way, and stop using up my twenty minutes with your worthless posturing.” There’s a long, silent pause and Andrew spent the whole time staring at Neil.  _ He’s back, he’s okay. He’s back, he’s okay. He’s back, he’s okay. _ And Andrew will not let those fucking FBI agents take him away again.  _ We’re going to be ok. _

A flurry of movement behind Andrew drew him back to the present. He didn’t spare a look for the agent that unlocks the handcuffs, and he flexed his hand a few times to make sure he’d actually been freed. 

Once the officers were out of the way, Neil turned his full attention back to Andrew. He didn’t say anything, and instead expectantly stared at Andrew with devastatingly blue eyes. 

“So the attitude problem wasn’t an act, at the least,” Andrew said. He knew that Neil would hear the accusation in his statement. 

“I was going to tell you,” Neil said. Andrew was emphatically sick of Neil’s lies. 

“Stop lying to me,” he said, and he meant it. He gave Neil so much of himself, told Neil the truth. He expected the same in return. 

“I’m not lying,” Neil insisted. “I would have told you last night, but they were in our locker room.” 

“They who?” The agent that brought Neil asked. Andrew read the name Browning on the officer’s name tag. He was sick of Browning. Neither of the boys looked at him. 

“Those weren’t security guards that came for us,” Neil said in German.  _ Oh. _ It all started to make a strange sort of sense to Andrew, but he needed to hear it from Neil. “They were there for me, and they would have hurt all of you to get me out of there. I thought by keeping my mouth shut I could keep you safe.”  _ Playing the fucking martyr again. There were only two of them and nine of us. _ If it were anyone else admitting this to Andrew, he would have pointed that out. He didn’t know why he let Neil alone. Andrew didn’t like that Aaron and Nicky were hearing this, but at least it wasn’t the officers. “I didn’t know they’d staged a riot.” 

And there it fucking is. Andrew has to forgive him. He didn’t know he was putting the whole team in danger.  _ Yes he did. He knew when he decided to play college exy. _ Andrew pushed that thought from his brain. He didn’t have time to think about that. He didn’t want to be that angry. 

“What did I tell you about playing the martyr card?” Andrew asked. If this is going to be a regular occurrence, Neil will probably die before Andrew has a chance to kill him. 

“You said no one wanted it. You didn’t tell me to stop,” Neil said, and Andrew might have punched him for a second time. He didn’t, but he could have. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

“It was implied.” 

“I’m stupid, remember? I need things spelled out.” Andrew couldn’t decide if he wanted to hurt him or kiss him. Both, probably. 

“Shut up.”

“Am I at ninety-four yet?” Neil asked, and Andrew is hit with a wave of something akin to fondness. (Not that he would ever say it outloud.) 

“You are at one-hundred. What happened to your face?” Andrew asked. He was itching to change the subject, before Neil caught on to Andrew’s turmoil. And he wanted some answers about what Neil had endured the last twelve hours. 

Neil’s face paled and he looked like he might throw up, but answered, “A dashboard lighter.” 

Nicky let out a very loud whimper, and Aaron rolled off of the bed to go stand by him while cursing loudly. Andrew had forgotten they existed. Neil looked back before his (useless) brain could tell him not to, and everyone got a good look at his fucked up face. 

Kevin slammed his back into the wall while seemingly holding his tattoo in place with his hand. Matt had started to get up, but thankfully Dan held him in place, even when he fought to get up. 

“Jesus, Neil. The fuck did they do to you?” Matt asked him, but Neil didn’t respond. Abby seemed to share the same sentiment, as she was slowly walking toward the two of them.  _ Fuck no. _ Andrew wasn’t ready for anyone else to touch Neil. He wasn’t ready for Neil’s attention to be focused on anything other than Andrew. He yanked Neil’s face back toward him, and he would have hurt Abby if it came down to it. 

“Get away from us,” he said, successfully communicating his murderous emotions. 

“Andrew, he’s hurt. Let me see him,” Abby pleaded, and she had a little bit of a point. But there were bandages already in place, and Abby couldn’t do any more than that anyway. 

“If you make me repeat myself you will not live to regret it.” Andrew knew he was wearing his heart on his sleeve at this point. He was quickly losing what little self-control he had left, over a toy that wasn’t even Andrew’s anymore.  _ He’s not mine anymore. I broke my promise.  _

Neil pulled warily at Andrew’s hair, but he didn’t look away from Abby. Andrew needed Abby to know how completely serious he was when it came to Neil. Neil pulled one, two, three times and Andrew finally gave in.  _ Neil’s eyes are so deep, so blue. _ Andrew felt inexplicably more grounded when he locked eyes with Neil. He focused his attention on Neil, on the problem at hand. 

“Abby, I just got out of the hospital. I’m as good as I can be right now,” Neil reasoned. He never took his eyes off Andrew. Something warm flared low in Andrew’s belly.  _ Neil can read me. He knows me. _

“Neil-”

“Please,” Neil cut Abby off again. Andrew thought that maybe Neil didn’t want to be away from Andrew any more than Andrew wanted to be away from Neil.  _ Nothing. This means nothing. I’m just protecting what’s mine. _

When Abby walked away, the tension loosened from Andrew’s hands and shoulders. Neil kept his hand in Andrew’s hair, and Andrew focused on it.  _ Here, he’s here. _

“Did they tell you who I am?” Neil asked Andrew in German. Andrew was grateful that Neil seemed to be ready to share the whole, complete truth. 

“They didn’t have to. I choked the answers out of Kevin on the way here. Guess you weren’t an orphan after all.” Andrew really tried, but he couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.  _ Neil lied to me. _ “Where is your father now?” 

“My uncle executed him,” Neil said. He sounded a bit breathy, and he put two fingers up to Andrew’s chest, right over his heart. Andrew let him. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to say no to Neil again. “I spent my whole life wishing he would die, but I thought he never would. I thought he was invincible. I can’t believe it was that easy.” Andrew noted that a bit of Neil’s french accent poked through his German. He fleetingly wondered if that often happened when Neil rambled. 

“Was it easy?” Andrew asked, choosing his next words carefully. “Kevin told us who he worked for.” Neil seemed grateful for the discretion.  _ I’m not stupid. _

“My uncle said he was going to them to try and negotiate a ceasefire. I don’t know if he’s strong enough to bargain with them, but I’d like to think he wouldn’t have risked it without real ground to stand on. Promise me no one’s told the FBI about them,” Neil implores, as if Andrew could go back in time and make it all better if they had. Andrew found Neil’s faith in him astounding. 

“No one’s said a word to them since they said we couldn’t see you,” Andrew answered truthfully. A lot of emotions flicked across Neil’s face. 

“But why?” Neil asked, and Andrew doesn’t think he’s ever met someone so stupid. “I’ve done nothing but lie to them. I willingly put them all in danger so I could play a little longer. They got hurt last night because of me. Why would they protect me now?” 

“You are a Fox,” Andrew responded. He hoped Neil heard the underlying meaning.  _ Everyone on this team adores you. You’re the reason we even had a chance to play in New York. We would do anything for you. I would do anything for you. _ Andrew saw Neil trying to fight back words and tears. 

“Andrew, they want to take me away from here. They want to enroll me in the Witness Protection Program so my father’s people can’t find me. I don’t want-” Neil cut himself off.  _ You can ask for what you want, little rabbit. _ “If you tell me to leave, I’ll go.” Like hell he would. Andrew had just come to the realization that he wanted something, for the first time since Tilda died, and the universe wasn’t going to fucking take it away again. Not this time. He tugged at Neil’s shirt.  _ Come back to me, little rabbit. _

“You aren’t going anywhere.” Andrew deliberately spoke in English. He had a feeling he would need backup on this one. “You’re staying with us. If they try to take you away, they will lose.”  _ Or kill us all. _

“Take you away,” Dan said, wonderingly. “To where?” she asked a bit more sharply. 

“Are we talking about ‘away for some questioning’ or ‘away for good’?” Matt asked.  _ Well, it seems Neil’s parents have stepped in, _ Andrew thought somewhat bitterly. 

“Both,” Browning said. 

Nicky stopped crying long enough to fight for Neil. “You can’t have him. He belongs with us.” 

“When people find out he is still alive they will come for him.” Browning sounded more and more exasperated by the minute.  _ Good. He needs to give it up. _ “It is not safe for him here anymore, and it sure as hell isn’t safe for you. It is better for everyone if he disappears.”  _ Not for me. _ But the Foxes already knew, and they had already made their decision. Even Aaron seemed content to live in constant danger. It wasn’t really any different than how they were living before.  _ Trouble with a capital ‘T’. _

“What part of ‘go to hell’ do you need us to explain to you?” Allison asked. Andrew really hadn’t appreciated her full potential before. 

“We’re all legal adults here,” Matt pointed out. “We’ve made our decision. Unless he wants to stay with you, you’d better bring Neil back to us when you’re done with all your questions.” 

“‘Neil’ isn’t a real person,” Browning all but yelled. Andrew was ready for him to be gone. “It’s just a cover that let Nathaniel evade authorities. It’s past time to let him go.” 

“Neil or Nathaniel or whoever,” Nicky started. “He’s ours, and we’re not letting him go. You want us to vote on it or something? Bet you it’ll be unanimous.” 

“Coach Wymack, talk some sense into your team,” Browning demanded. Andrew almost snorted.  _ He’s been trying for the last three years. _

“Neil,” Wymack gently prodded. He lifted his face away from Andrew to look at Wymack. “Talk to me. What do you want?”  _ Yeah, little rabbit. What do you want? _

“I want-” Neil’s voice was so rough and hoarse and thick with unshed tears that everyone had to be completely silent to hear him. “I know I shouldn’t stay, but I can’t-I don’t want to lose this. I don’t want to lose any of you.” He tugged at Andrew’s hair when he said that. Andrew counted it as a complete victory. “I don’t want to be Nathaniel anymore. I want to be Neil for as long as I can.” It was the answer that Andrew hadn’t dared to hope for. 

“Good,” Wymack replied. “I’d have a hell of a time fitting ‘Wesninski’ on a jersey.” Coach’s attempt at humor didn’t really hit, but he made his point. 

“I would like a word with you,” Browning seethed while rubbing his temples. 

“About?” 

“Your willingness to put your players in considerable danger, for one.” 

“Giving up on Neil goes against everything we are. I’m game to argue with you about it for as long as it takes, but not if it means using up Neil’s allotted time. That’s not fair to any of them.” It was a sweet sentiment, but Andrew was tired of listening to adults arguing. He tugged at Neil’s hoodie to get his attention. 

“Get rid of them before I kill them,” he said only half-jokingly in German. 

“They’re waiting for answers,” Neil said.  _ So am I. _ “They were never able to charge my father while he was alive. They’re hoping I know enough to start decimating his circle in his absence. I’m going to give them truth, or as much of it as I can without telling them my father was acting on someone else’s orders. Do you want to be there for it? It’s the story I should have given you months ago,” Neil conceded. And yeah, Andrew wanted the answers, but he also wasn’t quite ready to leave Neil alone.

“I have to go,” Andrew told Neil. “I don’t trust them to give you back.” It was a lame excuse but Andrew was sure Neil knew that Andrew meant he couldn’t quite bear to be alone yet. 

Letting go of Neil’s hoodie, Andrew got to his feet and offered his hand to Neil. Instead of using it, Neil pushed himself to stand. He grimaced a lot. 

“I’m sorry,” Neil said, and for a moment Andrew thought he was talking to him. He was talking to Wymack, though, so Andrew decided to spare him. “I should have told you, but I couldn’t.” 

“Don’t worry about that right now.” Wymack waved him off. “Twenty minutes isn’t near long enough for this conversation. We can talk about it on the ride back to campus, right?” It sounded like a threat. 

“Yes, I promise,” Neil swore solemnly. “I just have to talk to them first.” 

“Then go,” Dan said. Neil turned his head to look at her. “But come back to us as soon as they’re done with you, okay?” She asked pointedly. “We’ll figure this out as a team.” 

“As a family,” Nicky added. He tried for an encouraging smile, but Andrew thought it just looked like a scowl. 

Andrew was struck by how much everyone adored Neil. The whole team. Even Aaron. This project, this blue-eyed,  gorgeous , motherfucker of a man had shown up and thrown Andrew’s whole belief-system out of whack. Andrew hated Neil for it. He also felt the opposite of hate for Neil, whatever that may be. He was ready for the whole nightmare to be over, to go back to smoking and kissing and touching on the roof, to deny that it was anything more than that. 

Andrew didn’t often lie. He never lied to himself. 

“Thank you,” Neil said to the team, and it pulled Andrew back to the present. Allison waved him off, though. 

“No, thank you. You just closed three outstanding bets and made me five hundred bucks,” she said. “I’d rather find out exactly why and when you two hooked up than think about this awfulness any longer, so let’s talk about that on the ride back instead.” Andrew decided that his gratefulness toward Allison had expired, but he didn’t say anything to counter her accusation. To his surprise and smug enjoyment, neither did Neil. After a beat or two of silence, Aaron’s face went slack and Nicky flicked his wide eyes between the two of them. Andrew promptly decided he would deal with them later. 

Neil caught his eye and asked, “Ready?” 

“Waiting on you,” Andrew retorted. He had been all night. 

“I didn’t invite him,” Browning said. Honestly, Andrew was sick and tired of him. Wymack stepped in before Andrew had time to snap back. 

“Trust me,” Coach said. “You’ll fare a lot better if you take them both.” Andrew had never appreciated him more. 

Browning just flipped his gaze over them and gave a curt, “We’re leaving now.” The two headed toward the door to follow Browning. 

“We’ll wait for you, all right? As long as it takes, Neil,” Wymack promised, and Andrew noticed a lot of the tension seeping from Neil’s shoulders. His eyes, which had been pinched around the corners, softened out. He nodded, and fell into step with Andrew. 

They went down one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve steps behind Browning and were ushered into a swanky looking SUV. Nothing like Andrew’s Maserati, but Andrew supposed he knew how to hot-wire it if need be. Neil didn’t look at Andrew until the hotel was out of sight. 

“Can I really be Neil again?” Neil asked in German. Andrew thought he never stopped being Neil. 

“I told Neil to stay. Leave Nathaniel buried in Baltimore with his father,” Andrew demanded, and he stopped talking before any of the other stupid thoughts could leave his brain.  _ Neil is mine. I never made a promise to Nathaniel. I didn’t kiss Nathaniel. I gave Neil the house key. _

Neil looked back out the window and Andrew was happy to give him his space. Andrew knew that there was a lot left undone, a lot of loose ends that would need tying up, but for now, he was with Neil. The FBI weren’t going to take him, he would go back to Palmetto, he would play offense and Andrew would defend the goal. Andrew was toeing at a dangerous line here, coming to the edge of a very high precipice, but he couldn’t find it in him to back away. 

“Neil Abram Josten,” Neil murmured softly. Andrew whole-heartedly agreed.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, there you have it folks! I really tried to show the jumble of Andrew's emotions from anger to worry to hatred to the "opposite of hatred, whatever that may be." I sincerely hope you enjoyed, and if you did I would love to see some kudos and comments. If you have some constructive criticism or you just want to say hello, I'm on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/soviet-whale/blog/soviet-whale)! Thank you so much for reading!!


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